He wasn’t even listening to her. All of his attention was on the attainable victory. “Del, dawg, I ain’t never had no problem with you before, but I feel like I’m gonna have to check you now.”

Eye contact maintained, I tried for the no-fear approach. Stay calm. Don’t let him smell your fear.

“Leave him alone,” Kiera insisted, and I finally felt my body soften, the humiliation of her standing up for me having the effect I’d been wishing. Not fast enough.

“Get up so I can talk to my girl!” Colossus snatched my jacket with one hand, effortlessly reeling me from my seat. Exposing me.

“Whoa!” one of the wrestlers said, eyes angled down. “He’s like half-tent!”

Jameer saw it too, flinched.

Colossus’s fist sprung loose like a reverse bear trap. He backed away, horrified. “Bro, what the hell?”

The other wrestlers laughed, and the embarrassment was the mental equivalent of cold water. I rapidly retracted, the cramped tightness in my crotch becoming cavernous. My only comfort being my back was to Kiera. No way she saw what had all the dudes around me acting like I’d pulled a gun.

“I’m done.” Kiera slid from the booth, made for the door.

Colossus called for her. She walked backward while she spoke, her cell raised like a ward against evil. “I’m calling my dad. Would you like to speak to him, too?”

Colossus backed off.

People were staring now. The unwanted attention combined with my embarrassment ejected me from the restaurant. I wasn’t chasing Kiera as much as fleeing her ex, but when I spotted her turning the corner in the same general direction of my parked bike, well, why not?

“Kiera, wait up!” She didn’t slow down, but I caught her easily.

“You don’t need to walk with me, Del. I’m fine.”

“I want to walk with you.” Blurted so honestly that I regretted it immediately. It didn’t feel smooth, it wasn’t game.

I went for a neutral follow-up, pushing for—needing—more conversation. “Did you really call your dad?”

“No. If I called Daddy for a ride, it’d cause all kinds of problems that I don’t need right now. I’m trying to get an Uber home.” She stared at her phone, then extended her arm like that would fix the problem. You couldn’t get an Uber in Green Creek. Not fast. Most of the drivers were like an hour away.

“Crap!” she said, reality sinking in. “Where’s your car?”

I cycled through dumb lies, but we were coming up on the bus bench I’d chained my bike to; lamplight glinted off pedal reflectors. To sell any of my fabricated stories, I’d have to abandon it for however long I was in Kiera’s company tonight. Bikes left unattended too long lost tires, or sometimes got their locks busted and disappeared forever. I conceded and said, “My sister took it.”

“How’d you get here?”

Like a magician making his assistant appear from thin air, I flicked my fingers toward my ten-speed with an exaggerated “Ta-DAAA!” gesture. “The preferred mode of transportation for eleven-year-olds across the globe.”